The Other Side of the Coin
by las brujas chismosas
Summary: She's gone unnoticed for the past four years. A mysterious letter suddenly draws her out from the dark corners of Potions class into the midst of our heroic trio. Together, they must overcome their own individual struggles to successfully defeat the Dark
1. Prologue

# The Other Side of the Coin

--a fanfiction by las brujas chismosas

Disclaimer:Original story and characters have been created by J.K. Rowling and are therefore hers.We're just borrowing them like everyone else, so we better not get sued.

# Prologue

Alex was sitting in her room, now thankfully empty, organizing the remaining books and supplies for her 5th year classes, when her owl, Conch, flew in through the window with a small cream envelope.After untying it from his leg, Alex opened the letter, skimmed its contents, and sighed.The last time Alexandra Moonstone Saavedra had received such a letter from Hogwarts, her life had changed almost immediately.At that time, it appeared to be only an invitation to attend Hogwarts, agreed to be the most prestigious school of wizardry in England.Since Alex had been only just moved to England, it had seemed like a godsend.She would attend a school where there were people as "different" as she.Being the naïve and eager girl of eleven that she was then, it did indeed seem a dream come true.Now, she knew better; she knew that the magical community wasn't the oasis of belonging she had imagined it to be. "Once an outcast, always an outcast," she thought to herself.

Looking back at the first two years, she cursed her luck.She was sure she had been placed in a special kind of hell reserved for those who must have done something especially bad in a past life.Even though the past two years had shown some improvement, Alex was still convinced that she had to be Judas reincarnated.

She wondered whether she should simply ignore Dumbledore's summons.Though this letter was couched in passive language, a summons was exactly what it was.In reality, she had no choice, but that didn't matter.And after all, she had little to gain or lose.She looked at the letter, examining it again:

_ _

_Dear Miss Saavedra,_

Your presence is requested at a confidential meeting on the 2nd of September in Prof. Dumbledore's office following the end of your last class.The password is "lemon drop".You will only need your wand with you.Please confirm by owl in advance.

_ _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

## Deputy Headmistress

What could she possibly have to do with anything that merited such secrecy?

'At least my life can't get much worse than it already is,' she thought, quickly scribbling a reply to send back with Conch.


	2. From the Shadows

# 

# The Other Side of the Coin

--a fanfiction by las brujas chismosas

Disclaimer:Original story and characters have been created by J.K. Rowling and are therefore hers.We're just borrowing them like everyone else, so we better not get sued.

# Chapter 1: From the Shadows

Alexandra Moonstone Saavedra had to be the only student at Hogwarts who didn't dread Potions Class. It was the one class where she felt truly confident in herself, where she knew exactly what she was doing. Professor Snape had been a problem at first, but soon he recognized her vast aptitude for potions. He didn't mind that she rarely spoke up in class or chose to work without a partner whenever possible. 

Today, however, Severus Snape noticed that she was acting especially peculiar, with her head resting on her hands, staring off into space. She doesn't really need to hear all this, anyway, he thought. She could make this potion in her sleep, and still get perfect marks on it, he thought with a hint of a smile, and let her be.

Still thinking about the letter she'd received two days earlier, Alex hit her elbow against a jar of frog warts, nearly knocking it over. This drew a curious look from Snape, but she was too deep into her thoughts to notice. 

She had never tried to attract much attention to herself, at least, not since she'd come to Hogwarts. She often thought about what her life would have been like, had she never been a witch. It was a futile way to pass the time, but she indulged herself just this once, after the letter had thrown her world into complete confusion. 

Hogwarts had not seemed so bad, at first: to be presented to an entire magical world will always be an exciting thing, especially if you're 11. When the letter came, Alex had been in England for only four days, still sleeping on the floor of her new room.Looking back on it now, 4 years later, she supposed that had her father not been offered a lucrative deal to join a British architectural firm, she would have gone to a muggle school and would not have found out about her magical capabilities until much later. But as it was, her father jumped at the chance to make partner with anyone, and packed his family off to Cheltenham as soon as he'd found a house. The fact that her parents were as astounded as she was by the letter's contents led her to believe that her grandmother, Kietowah Rose, had been hiding others from both her and her family while they were still living in California. Whether she had been contacted at all in the United States was a question she had continually asked herself, until her grandmother confessed that she had magically blocked all the letters from the Salem Magical Conservatory for Girls.She didn't understand then, as she did now, that her grandmother had been protecting her, rather than trying to hurt her. Being different was a plague her grandmother had endured, though Alex supposed that it had been much worse for her, being the only Native American in her school, and with magical abilities, at that. 

Though her mother and father were hardcore muggles, Alexandra Moonstone Saavedra had magic coming to her from both sides of her family. Her father's father, 'Buelo Mo, had been an active Santería practitioner until he moved in with the family a few years earlier, after his wife died. Alex's father had asked him to discontinue his "voodoo practices" while he lived with them, and he had, for a while. But as soon as he recognized talent in Alex, he introduced her to the world of the orichas.

'Buelo Mo, however, died before he could teach her anything significant. By this time, Alex had begun school, and even though she tried her hardest to fit in, the occasional magical slip-up set her far apart from her classmates. She tried, on occasion, to put into practice the little her grandfather had taught her, but failed miserably each time. 

It wasn't until her grandmother Kietowah Rose moved from New Jersey to Phoenix, that she truly began to learn magic. Alex and her little brother Emmanuel were sent to spend the summer with her while their parents made the house ready for the new baby who was on its way. Grandma Rose had taken Alex under her wing, comforting her with the stories of her tribe. She returned to Grandma Rose's three more times before she moved to England, and in those three summers, learned as much as she could about various potions for healing that Rose had learned from her grandmother. 

Alex sighed, a bit too loudly, perhaps.

"I'm glad you find this discussion so beyond you, Ms. Saavedra", said Professor Severus Snape, causing most of the class to snigger behind their steamy cauldrons.

"I'm afraid", he continued, "that I will be forced to take off points from Slytherin if I hear another outburst of this nature.I understand that today is the first day of term, but that does not give any of you an excuse to stop paying attention."

As the lesson progressed, the Potions classroom, located in the very bowels of Hogwarts' dungeons, became unusually cold, and Alex shivered.She usually enjoyed Potions, where, immersed in the creation of some poison, or its antidote, she could easily tune out the jeering of her classmates.Her hard work consistently won Slytherin points, but even this did not ingratiate her to her fellow Slytherins.For she was what they rudely called a "Mudblood", the only one in Slytherin House since Tom Riddle, better known as Lord Voldemort.As hard as she tried, she could not distance herself from this fact. Because she was an oddity in the house, her fellow house-mates treated her as such, nagging and taunting her incessantly. None of them, however, were as cruel as Draco Malfoy, who simply chose to ignore her. She supposed he was too busy hating Harry Potter and his friends to waste any energy making fun of her as well, but Alex had to admit that there had been a time when she would have been happy with a mere "Mudblood" directed her way. Now, however, she hated Draco as much as he hated Harry Potter.

It took quite a bit of self-control on Alex's part to remind herself that she was, at heart, a good person. It was Hogwarts, after all, that had made her the bitter person she was now.

The invitation to Hogwarts seemed like a reprieve from having to be the new girl, something she'd dreaded since hearing her father's news. After all, _everyone_ in her year would be new to Hogwarts. When she and her family met Professor Flitwick, along with other Muggle families and their magical offspring, in front of the Leaky Cauldron, her dream seemed to be coming true. Her parents, though hesitant at first, had talked with other parents and were then convinced that this was the best recourse for their daughter. Alex even got the nerve up to talk to some of the other students, and though they were nice, her being an American initially shocked them. Only one girl, who appeared to be quite bossy, didn't seem surprised. But she was too busy bragging about how much she knew, discouraging Alex from starting a conversation with her. 

The train ride had been pleasant, as she slept the whole way there, but things didn't start to go downhill until the sorting. She hadn't really talked to any other students, and so she had no idea about the characteristics of each of the houses. As a result, she slipped the sorting hat over her head with an open mind. 

"Hmm, interesting," said a small voice in her ear, "You certainly have a high capacity for learning, and I see a definite stubborn streak there. Ahhh, what is this? Ambitious, are we? Where shall I put you?" Alex had been nodding off under the muggy warmth of the hat.

I really don't know, she thought, exhausted. Isn't it _you_r job to decide?

"Ahhh, well, in that case, I see you are perfect for SLYTHERIN!" He screamed the last word, jarring Alex from her fatigue-induced stupor. 

Alex didn't know what sort of fate the sorting hat had assigned her until she slid into her seat at the Slytherin table. She sat down next to Draco Malfoy, who only looked at her and quickly scooted away, mumbling something about "muggles" under his breath. She didn't know then what he was talking about, but learned soon enough. From that point on, she came to hate Hogwarts. All the Slytherin students regularly picked on her: she was the only muggle-born wizard to be sent to Slytherin since Voldemort, and this frightened nearly everyone, though the Slytherins were the only ones who dared to pick on her. Her thick, long black hair was constantly pulled in class, whether it was braided, hanging loose, or in a ponytail. Her roommates avoided her, always complaining about how they were stuck with her, not caring whether she was around to hear their biting comments.The boys were worse; every day they reminded her that she was an outcast, a muggle-born who did not deserve to be in Slytherin. 

She might have made friends with the Gryffindors in her classes, but the stigma of being the only muggle in Slytherin severely curtailed her interaction with them as well; the ones who weren't afraid of her avoided her anyway. It helped that she didn't do much on her part to get to know anyone outside of Slytherin, but by then, she'd been burned far too harshly by her housemates to really try and get to know anyone else. 

A small explosion in the far corner startled Alex back to her senses. Neville Longbottom had once again added the wrong amount of monkey brains to his Foresight Potion, and as always, Professor Snape was scolding him harshly for it, taking 50 points away from Gryffindor for his mistake. Alex hated when Snape picked on Neville; though she didn't know him, she thought he looked nice enough, if somewhat on the short side. She quickly glanced over at Harry Potter, his friend Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, who were huddled over their cauldrons, anger plain on their faces. Alex looked away sadly, returning to her thoughts. 

When she had returned home for Christmas vacation that first year, she found herself in the middle of a war zone. Her mother, a web designer, had been unhappy with the overseas move from the start. What with her inability to find a job over the past few months, she wanted to return to the States. Her father disagreed, and they argued loudly, every night after the children had supposedly gone to sleep. Her brother and baby sister would climb into her bed and cry as they listened to their parents shout and scream at each other all night long. Christmas itself was a decidedly haggard affair, tense and forced, and when Alex had to leave again for Hogwarts, bitter tears were shed on both sides. 

Alex consequently paid little attention to Quidditch, or the House Cup, and thankfully, the next semester passed quickly for her. She happily left Hogwarts as soon as she could, and was ecstatic to hear that her mother was going to spend the summer with Grandma Rose, and that she and her siblings were to accompany her. That summer was one of the most idyllic; she spent most of her time showing her grandmother what she had learned. 

It came as a shock to Alex when her mother announced that she would not be returning to England. Her siblings were going to live with Grandma Rose until her mother had found a job and an apartment, but the letter Alex received from Hogwarts had sealed her fate; she found herself on a flight back to England, to spend a week with her father before returning to school.

Alex looked up to see her classmates cleaning up their work stations, and began to do the same. Blaise Zabini, one of her roommates, bumped into her, knocking her books to the floor. 

"Mudblood," the thick-necked witch whispered.The insult brought her back to reality, and reminded her of her imminent meeting with Dumbledore. She turned her back to the girl, and quickly began to put her books away. She wasn't looking forward to the meeting, but she didn't want to be late either. 

"What's the rush, Mudblood? Late for a date?" Blaise asked, laughing at her own joke.

"In fact, I am. I would invite you to come, but I couldn't find anyone near to dumb enough to suit your mental prowess," Alex retorted, exiting the room before Blaise was able to process the comment. 

Alex hurried to Dumbledore's office, not wanting to arrive late.She was so out of breath, she had to repeat the password to the guardian gargoyle twice before she was allowed in. She stopped in front of a spiral staircase, taking time to collect herself, but when she opened her eyes, she saw that she was standing in front of a large oak door. Although this unsettled her as well, she did not hesitate to rap on the door, which immediately sprang open. She was faced with a large circular room, which already contained seven other students, all of whom were staring at her, dumbfounded. Dumbledore, who was standing behind his desk, smiled. 

"Ahhh, Miss Saavedra. We've been expecting you."


	3. The Choice

# The Other Side of the Coin

--a fanfiction by las brujas chismosas

Disclaimer:Original story and characters have been created by J.K. Rowling and are therefore hers.We're just borrowing them like everyone else, so we better not get sued.

A/N:Sorry for the delay, but we've been attacked by midterms, blizzards, and fanfic.net's devastating shutdown.

**Chapter 2: ********The Choice**

"A Slytherin?" 

Alex turned her head, only to see Harry Potter, along with every other student in the room, staring at her with incredulity. 

"Yes?" she answered defiantly, cocking her eyebrow at him. "Will that be a problem for you?" With that, she plopped down in her seat, wishing she hadn't shown up after all. 

Harry gawked at the new girl, in shock. He had seen her at the Slytherin table, usually alone, sitting far away from Draco's circle of groupies. He always thought that her seclusion from Malfoy's crowd was a bit odd, considering the rumors that had circulated since their second year that _she_ was the true heir of Slytherin, the one who had opened the chamber, but he supposed that Draco, like him, knew the truth.

Suddenly realizing that he had been staring, Harry turned towards Dumbledore, only slightly less confused than the other students concerning the reason why they had all been called to Dumbledore's office. After all, he still did not know exactly why Dumbledore had arranged a _confidential_ meeting, but he figured he had more of an idea as to its purpose than the other students currently assembled.

Harry looked around the room. To his right was his best friend Hermione Granger.Angelina Johnson, also in Gryffindor, was to her right. To _her _right sat Khutaza Stubbs, a Ravenclaw 7th year. Next to her sat Cho Chang, and then the Slytherin girl, whose name he did not remember. On his other side sat Christopher Healy and Karen Jordan, both Hufflepuff 6th years.All of them were now looking expectantly at Dumbledore, as if awaiting an explanation for the Slytherin's entrance. 

"As you all know, what with the events that happened at the end of last semester, things have changed. This meeting has to do with those events, and I suppose that some of you might be surprised by this fact, while others are not."He smiled at Harry knowingly.

Harry looked up, and smiled back. He had not been surprised in the least to receive Dumbledore's summons.

To the Dursleys' chagrin, Dumbledore had traded many an owl with him over the summer, appraising him on the various measures Harry should be taking in order to protect himself, as well as those around him. They had finally agreed that during the school year it would be best to protect all students equally, seeing as how no one was safe from Voldemort and his schemes. Doing this at Hogwarts would certainly be easier, what with its hidden location and blocks against apparating, and such. 

In fact, Harry hadn't worried about his safety in the least during his stay with the Dursleys. Dumbledore had assured him when he left last year that he would be safer there than with the Weasleys, much to Ron and Harry's mutual displeasure. But living with the Dursleys hadn't been as horrible as he'd thought it would. What with the threat of Sirius blasting them all to smithereens still hanging over their heads, they had gave Harry quite a wide berth, though if looks could kill, Harry would have been shot, skinned, dried, and left for the birds a number of times. Dudley, fresh from being expelled from Smelting's School for Boys on account of excessive fighting, still picked on Harry on occasion, though Harry, with little to do but send owls to Ron and Hermione complaining about how he was living in a virtual prison, spent a considerable amount of time working out with Dudley's old exercise equipment. (After all, Dudley sure wasn't using any of it.) 

Harry hadn't known that the meeting in Dumbledore's office would involve other students, so he was delighted to meet Hermione at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. All that was forgotten, however, as soon as he saw the girl from Slytherin walk in; Slytherins weren't to be trusted with this sort of thing, he thought to himself. Dumbledore might as well invite Voldemort to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, and _really_ get Harry good and dead.

Alex slid into her chair, turning bright red. She hadn't noticed until now that she was the only Slytherin present. This didn't disconcert her so much as confuse her. She had come to the meeting thinking that she would meet Dumbledore one on one but rather, she sat in his spacious office surrounded by what seemed to her to be the smartest students at Hogwarts. Other than Harry Potter and his friend, Hermione Granger, she was the youngest in the room.

Why am I here, she thought to herself. Better yet, why are _they_ here for my "confidential" meeting with Dumbledore? Alex had little time to ponder these and other questions, as Dumbledore was clearing his throat in order to direct the attention given to her back to him. 

"As we all know, Voldemort has risen again. We have great reason to believe that Hogwarts will be one of his main targets, since he deems several of our students worthy of his attention." The students took this opportunity to look at Harry, most with pity, though the Slytherin girl seemed merely curious. "At this juncture, however, the other faculty members and I have decided that while added security measures are certainly warranted, we will not proceed with them unless provoked." 

The students didn't say a word. Harry was surprised; hadn't Dumbledore _just_ told him that he would be instituting extra protection for the students? Khutaza Stubbs, a rather forthright young woman if there ever was one, raised her hand, but Dumbledore waved it away.

"What we will be doing, however, involves-" The door opening, as well as the rude words muttered by the person who stepped through it, brought everyone's attention back towards the rear of the room. Again, the surprise was an extremely unpleasant one.

"_Malfoy_?!?" Harry and the Slytherin girl yelled at the same time. They looked at each other, confused, and then back at Draco.

Draco, surprised by the presence of other students in the room, recovered himself and smirked. Taking one look at Dumbledore, he said, "I'm leaving." 

"No, you will not," Dumbledore said. Never a fan of ultimatums, the icy harshness of his voice stopped Draco in his tracks. He crooked his finger at Draco, beckoning him over to the alcove away from where the other students were sitting. They spoke in hushed voices, Draco obviously upset, until apparently Draco lost his mind and started yelling.

"WHAT HAPPENED THIS SUMMER DOESN'T MEAN A THING!" he bellowed. 

Dumbledore, unperturbed, continued to speak in a lower tone.

"I'm not promising anything. That's all I'm saying," Draco replied to whatever Dumbledore had said, and plopped down in the chair next to the other Slytherin. She made a face, obviously disgusted, and scooted her chair away from him. At that same moment, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, Professor Moody, and to Harry's delight, Remus Lupin, walked in, apologizing for being late. 

"Ahh, now that we are all assembled, let's introduce each other, as I'm sure there might be some unfamiliar faces here." They went around the room, stating their name and where they were from, and Harry was surprised to find out that the Slytherin girl, whose name was Alex, spoke with an American accent, though she said she was from Cheltenham. He'd been surprised by her reaction to Malfoy: he thought everyone in Slytherin worshipped Draco, but apparently this was not the case. Harry was curious to find out why, but Dumbledore commanded his attention once more. 

"As I was saying, young Harry Potter is obviously a target for Voldemort, which makes Hogwarts itself a target. Many people have forgotten what life was like during the years when his power was at its height, and want to deny that he has risen. This is our first problem. Our second and more pressing problem is that Voldemort might want to recruit younger wizards and witches, by either enchantment or simple persuasion. In all honesty, you nine students are the most talented here at Hogwarts, have the most to gain, and the most to lose, were Voldemort to gain control of you. Thus, I've decided, with the faculty's approval, that you are to be taught advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, along with skills and spells not usually taught to students. With these lessons come certain responsibilities, such as always being on your guard against dark magic, as well as protecting the students in your classes and houses. You are also to report to me _any_ suspicious behavior you may witness, though you are _not_ to act alone, or even with another student. Is that understood?" 

All the students nodded, even Draco, who looked more astonished than anyone else in the room. 

"Professor Moody and Mr. Lupin will be administering your lessons each Saturday and Sunday. You will learn of the location of each of these lessons the Friday before-yes, Ms. Stubbs?" 

Dumbledore smiled at Khutaza, who had raised her hand, and was waving it frantically.

"What about Hogsmeade? We won't have nearly any time to visit Hogsmeade with these lessons!" she said, clearly perturbed. Harry, in fact, hadn't thought of that, but now that he did, his heart sank. Ron knew nothing about this, and Harry was sure he couldn't tell him. If he were missing every weekend, Ron was sure to notice.

"There will be no trips to Hogsmeade this year. For anyone. It is entirely too dangerous now. As well, your absences will not be as conspicuous this way." All the students protested, but Dumbledore put up his hand, silencing them. 

"Voldemort has risen, and you have been presented with a choice. It is up to each of you now to decide what you will do." 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N:Thank you to all of our wonderful reviewers: Zoe, Cakbug, Sidra Astro, Aira, Jennifer, Meatloaf the Happy Donkey, Amanita Lestrange, No Reply, Adrienne, and AngieJ!

Adrienne, you are right.Saavedra isn't a Haitian name, but rather a Cuban one.Santeria, though it may be practiced in places like Haiti, actually originated in the island of Cuba.Also, we assure you that Alex's character isn't based on either of us and we are not intending for this story to be a Mary Sue.

Amanita: What is OC? 

Also, a special thanks to Borrero, who spotted an important mistake.Thank you!


	4. Secrets and Lies

# The Other Side of the Coin

--a fanfiction by las brujas chismosas

Disclaimer:Original story and characters have been created by J.K. Rowling and are therefore hers.We're just borrowing them like everyone else, so we better not get sued.

A/N:Ok, here is chapter 3 ~ finally! Sorry it took so long, but what with spring break and midterms that lasted months (!) rather than just a week or so, it's been hard trying to get to our story. But here it is, and yes, it's short, but if we'd made it longer, we wouldn't have uploaded it for another two weeks. Chapter 4 is on the way, we swear!! Enjoy!

**Chapter 3:Secrets and Lies**

"What was all that about?" Harry asked Hermione as they left Dumbledore's office.

_ _

"Well, Voldemort has risen, as you might know, and Dumbledore naturally wants to protect Hogwarts from any attacks. I thought he explained it rather well," Hermione replied, looking away to shift some books in her pack.

"Hermione. What _are_ you talking about? I meant Draco's epileptic fit; he might as well have been talking in tongues for all the sense he made… I wonder what happened to him this past summer…" Harry said, regarding her strangely. Hermione didn't answer, but only shifted her pack once again, and readjusted her ponytail. She had been acting funny lately, but he wasn't sure if it was due to hormones, or just the shock of this meeting that was making her act this way.

"Earth to Hermione…what do you think might have happened to Draco this summer?" Harry asked, waving a hand in front of her face. Hermione turned, and looked him dead in the eye.

"I really have no idea, but I think it's a good thing he's a part of this-"

"_What_?!Have you been sniffing at the feebleness potion again?!?!" Harry yelled, startling several third years who had been walking by. Hermione shot him a quelling look, but he continued, albeit more quietly. "Letting Draco in on something like this is like inviting Voldemort himself right into Hogwarts. What was Dumbledore thinking?"

"Well, Harry, if Dumbledore trusts Draco, don't you think we should?" she retorted, pulling him back before he entered Great Hall. 

"Well, whatever. I suppose we can't worry about that now, since we need to figure out what we're going to tell Ron," he said. The idea of having to lie to his best friend about the secret meetings for the rest of the year unsettled him. He still wasn't sure how he and Hermione were going to pull it off, but Dumbledore said he would address this in a later meeting; for now, they were going to have to fake it. They both cast a nervous glance at their best friend.He was sitting at the Gryffindor table with his brothers, looking incredibly bored as Fred and George were stuffing broccoli in their noses. Ron looked up, immediately spotted them, and motioned impatiently for them to come over. 

"Where have you both been? I've been looking all over for you! Where did you two get off to after Potions?" he asked as they sat down next to him. Harry and Hermione looked at each other guiltily, and spoke at the same time.

"Erm, I dropped my-"

"I mean, he was-," they stuttered, looking at each other confused.Fred and George scooted in, squishing Harry and Hermione closer together. 

"Ahh, my dear widdle Wonniekins, there comes a time in a young boy's life when the members of the fairer sex begin to seem a great deal more appealing than a man's bony red-headed chum ever will," George said, fluttering his eyelids.

"Ahhh, yes…springtime, when a young man's thoughts turn to fancy," Fred replied in a high-pitched feminine voice. Hermione swatted them both, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's fall, you dolts," he said, and turned back to Ron. "We can discuss that later," Harry added, glancing at Fred and George, who had moved on down the table in hopes of impressing Angelina and Alicia with their newly improved joke wands, which screamed horribly when you tried to use them. 

Despite their deplorable performance at lunch table that day, Harry and Hermione managed to convince Ron that they'd had various things to do after Potions, but they both knew that their absences each weekend were sure to register on his radar. The added bonus of having to spend these weekends learning advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts with Draco Malfoy was something that still rankled Harry a bit, since he would have to spend not only Potions and Care of Magical Creatures with him, but this as well. The thought of spending Saturdays and Sundays with the joker, he thought, well, just made this semester's suck-potential suddenly reach sky-high. 

****

After the meeting ended, Alex rushed back to her bedroom. The entire Slytherin House was thankfully silent, as all of its members were gathered at their table in Great Hall for dinner. She plopped on her bed, closed the dark green drapes that surrounded it, and let out a great sigh of relief. Missing dinner didn't bother her, since she wasn't the least bit hungry. She was only glad she had managed to avoid Draco, whose questioning glare had perturbed her during the entire meeting.

'Well, I doubt he hates me more than I hate him,' she thought with a twinge of regret. There'd been a time when she dreamt that Draco would only look at her, when she'd found herself in the throes of a great numbing crush on him, not unlike the rest of the girls in her year, as well as the first, second, and third years besides. This past summer, however, she'd been rudely awakened from her dreams that Draco might ever have any sort of similar feelings for her.Sitting back in bed, she closed her eyes.

Despite the somber note on which her fourth year ended, Alex couldn't help but be slightly excited.She was now done with her fourth year, and could now look forward to the summer, half of which she would once again spend shuttling between her mother and grandmother in Phoenix and San Diego. She could hardly wait to tell her grandmother of the year's bizarre occurrences.

She had grabbed an empty compartment near the end of the Hogwarts Express and immediately settled down for a nap. She'd slept peacefully until loud yelling in the next compartment woke her up a few hours later. After a few minutes of eavesdropping, Alex wasn't surprised to find that the cause of all the commotion was Draco, who, forever flanked by his bouncers Crabbe and Goyle, was once again picking a fight with Harry and his friends. Suddenly, she heard the door of the compartment in which they were in slam shut, and a heavy thud ring through the car.She ran outside to find Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle stunned and helpless on the floor, covered in hex marks.She rushed to Draco's aid, who was still lying unconscious on the floor, while the other two were getting up, rubbing their heads and the tentacles that had sprouted from their faces.She had to perform a revival spell three times in a row before he finally awoke.

"That's going to sting in the morning," he said rubbing his forehead, his eyes clenched shut. 

"No doubt. I could try and hex these marks off you, but that might hurt even more," Alex replied, smiling.

"No, no, let me go home like this, my father might actually notice me for a change," Draco retorted, grimacing in pain as he tried to open his eyes. He squinted at Alex's smiling face, trying to focus on what he saw, until his eyes widened and he cried, "What were you doing?" 

"What? I was just trying to help you!" Alex yelled back. 

"What makes you think I need any help?"

"Maybe the fact that you were lying here unconscious with tentacles sprouting out your forehead?! I could be wrong, but I'd want someone to help me if I were in that situation, but maybe that's just me!"

"It _is_ just you! Leave me alone!" he cried, pushing himself up off the floor, "Potter's going to pay for this one…" she heard him mutter under his breath. 

"Perhaps you should leave him alone…you've been harping on him for the past four years, and look where it's gotten you," Alex said quietly, standing up. Draco turned and looked at her scornfully.

"What do you know, you, you…filthy…_American_…._ Mudblood_!" he yelled, and shoved her back to the ground. Alex was so surprised by his reaction that she actually remained there, stunned, as he made his way down the aisle and out the car. She tried to chalk his outburst up to embarrassment, but she'd only been trying to help, and his rejection of her help angered her fiercely. From that moment on, she channeled her anger into hating him, which wasn't all that hard given his temperament, and the fact that she hadn't seen him all summer. Returning to Hogwarts, she'd studiously avoided him, though it seemed that she ran into him even more when she was trying not to. The idolatry of the other girls in her house fueled her anger, because it fed his ego, and when she found herself slipping up, sneaking looks at him from her end of the table, or in Potions class, she reminded herself of what had happened on the train. And most of the time, it worked.

A/N:Once again, thank you, o wonderful reviewers:ferret w/ a fez, Stave Leonheart, Rose Black (No one has flamed us thus far and it is probably thanks to you and your warning! Thanks!), The Frog (A little too short?Hehehe…it just goes to show one can never please people…We've had others complain that our fic is turning out to be too long…=D), Zoo (If it weren't for suspense, how else would we keep our audience?), Topaz (Ah, Etudies-tu le français?Merci pour ta correction sur « mudblood »!), Ella, Aladastrius, Your loyal fan, Meffles, Kath, Heraclas, Jenneigh (We also liked that it was different), Holly, Roxy, Memory, Alanna Dumbledore, Flora, child of shadows, Yuubou (we'll try to keep it less confusing), quiana jade, Florencia, gentlewatersoul, Sireeda, Abigail, sten41, and Katarina.Thank you!


	5. Stranger than Fiction

The Other Side of the Coin

The Other Side of the Coin

--a fanfiction by las brujas chismosas 

Disclaimer:  Original story and characters have been created by J.K. Rowling and are therefore hers.  We're just borrowing them like everyone else, so we better not get sued.

A/N: See? Look how quick that was. And this chapter is hella long, so don't say we don't hook y'all up on occasion. There are some insults, so if you're light-hearted this might not be for you. There's violence as well, but since no one gets killed, a little scrapping shouldn't bother anyone. Hope y'all like it! :) LBC 

Chapter 4:  Stranger than Fiction

Draco Malfoy woke in a cold sweat. Cursing, he blinked his eyes and checked his night dial: it was only two in the morning.  Draco had never had any recollection of having nightmares or even night-sweats, but recently he'd been facing each day with a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something horrible were about to happen.  He usually did not remember his dreams, but something told him that his synapses had been on overload quite recently.

Opening the drapes that surrounded his bed, he quickly glanced around, asking himself what was he was doing awake at such an ungodly hour.

His stomach grumbled in reply.

'Fantastic. Bloody Fantastic', Draco mumbled, quickly putting on his night robe.

His stomach was throbbing with pain, he was so hungry; he had skipped dinner for the first time in four years so as to avoid the probing looks that Crabbe and Goyle were only barely capable of making, and thus shunning all the obligatory questions about his whereabouts. It seemed that the entire house knew his schedule, and though he used to relish all the attention and company, he now knew better. He knew he was a prisoner and constantly felt suffocated by the mere idea of being at Hogwarts, and wished he could go back to his room in the Manor. 

He got up and went downstairs to the common room, hoping to find some leftover candy or food someone might have forgotten there. Seeing nothing of worth around added to the fact that his stomach needed to have its way tonight, he left the inner sanctum of the Slytherin common room.  He knew exactly where the kitchens were, and more importantly, how to get into them, something he would never publicly admit. As it was, Draco knew a great deal about Hogwarts in general, especially after his father had drilled the layout of the place into his head during his first year when he had discovered that his son had gotten lost up in the towers and was rescued and harshly berated by Filch. His father had somehow learned about it, as he always did, and, apparently embarrassed that his son had proved himself to be just like the other first-years by losing his way going to class, sent a howler directly to Draco's room (of course: the cultured do not scold their children in public) going on about the stature of a Malfoy and how Draco wasn't living up to the name. Draco snorted, turning a corner. He certainly wasn't, especially at this point, and hoped he never would be. His features darkened, and feeling the anger build in him, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind, deciding to concentrate on his hunger instead.

He approached the fruit painting which concealed the entrance to the kitchen.  He hesitated, fearing lest he'd be seen, but figured that because of the time, the kitchens would be empty. He proceeded to tickle the pear, which giggled. As he went through the entrance, he heard voices coming from inside. _What would elves be doing up at this hour? _Draco thought to himself, moving closer to the voices. 

"Please, go back to sleep, Dobby, I can make my own sandwich! I'm sure you've got to get up early-" the voice he heard then stopped, startled by Draco's entrance.  A small elf, wearing a small pink t-shirt that said _Riot Grrrl_ in sparkly letters across the front as well as a rainbow colored nightcap with a matching pom-pom, squealed. Draco could not believe the scene before him.  All sorts of cold cuts and cheeses, as well as various loaves of bread were messily laid out on a table.  Feeling Draco's gaze on him, the small elf quickly hid behind Alex, who had been speaking and was now staring back at him as he stood in the doorway. 

_Well, well…apparently, the outcast of Slytherin has made a life with the elves_, he thought sarcastically, at same time relieved that it wasn't someone else who would spread rumors about his late night meanderings in the kitchen.  

"What are you doing here?" Alex demanded, apparently perturbed at his presence.

"I could ask you the same thing", he drawled in reply. 

 

He fixed his gaze to the elf hiding behind Alex. 

"Dobby, I know it's you! Get me something to eat!", he snapped.

Dobby was already heading to the back of the kitchen when Alex grabbed the tail of his shirt.

"No, Dobby, don't. You don't have to do what he says now! You're free to do as you like!" she said, glaring at Draco. Dobby squealed, and covered his eyes with his ears. He needn't have worried, however, as the other elves, all wearing the same tea towel with the Hogwarts crest embroidered on it, seemingly came out of the woodwork, bearing large trays of food. Draco selected an apple, and started to munch on it.

"Aren't you even going to say thank you?" Alex yelled, still holding Dobby, who was carefully but determinedly tugging his shirt away from her grasp, desperately trying not to stretch it.

"No," Draco replied, grabbing a sandwich on a plate nearby. "This is England, not your stupid America where everyone's 'equal,' you know." 

"Certainly not," Alex retorted. "And thank goodness for that! After all, if that were the case, a greater number of people would have to suffer the likes of you! You…you're a waste of magic!" she spit out, letting Dobby go in her fury. 

"How dare you-" Draco yelled, lunging for her over the table that separated them. Plates and food scattered everywhere, making quite a din, not to mention a horrible mess. Draco, not surprisingly, was a very dirty fighter, but Alex was quite the scrapper herself, so by the time Dobby and the other elves managed to separate them (by magicking them into mid air, tied up in ropes) Draco had a nasty bruise growing a few centimeters below his eye, and Alex a pretty pink one high on her neck. The elves then set about the task of cleaning up the mess Alex and Draco had made: dishes had shattered all over the floor, food seemed to have gotten everywhere, including the ceiling, and the elves themselves would need quite a bath once they were done. Alex and Draco, however, noticed none of this. Though they were physically restrained from fighting with each other, they made up for that fact in spades, vocally.

"Who do you think you are, Ms. Princess Crusader for Human Rights? You're so bloody high-handed-"  

"High-handed? Me? I don't think so, Mr. I've-got-a-rich-mummy-and-daddy-who'll-buy-me-anything; if anyone here's high-handed, it's you, you bloated carp!"

"Bloated carp? What kind of an insult is that? And if anyone's bloated, it must be you, suffering from PMS, it's so obvious!"

"Ha, and I'm still a better person than you'll ever be! And at least I've gone through puberty!"

"Yeah, well, at least I'm not ugly!"

"That's certainly debatable! You make a better ferret than a human, that's for sure. Or, sorry, was that a rat?"

"Right! Coming from someone like you, that's a compliment!"

"You're so conceited, how do you even know what a compliment is?"

"The fact that I know you even exist is a compliment, that's for sure!"

"PLEASE, BE QUIET! DOBBY CAN'T TAKE IT!" Dobby screeched, startling the cat that had just crept into the kitchen through a small cat door next to the ovens. Turning in Dobby's direction, both students did not fail to notice Mrs. Norris, who, after taking one look at the mess as well as Alex and Draco bound and tied in mid-air, immediately shot back out the door.

Alex and Draco froze and looked at each other, panicking.

"Dobby, let us go. PLEASE! Before Filch gets here!" Alex cried, wriggling desperately at the ropes.

"Let me out! Right now! I command you!" Draco yelled, also wriggling about quite unsuccessfully. 

"STOP!" Dobby roared again, "You two are banned from the kitchens for the next two weeks, and you are never to come back here together ever again," he said. 

"And how are you going to stop us?" Draco snapped, apparently forgetting the position he was in.

"Shut it, Malfoy. We swear, Dobby, just please let us go!" Alex cried.

In the blink of an eye, Alex and Draco found themselves outside the kitchens in front of the painting with the fruit. Disoriented, they looked at each other, and then tore off in opposite directions.

Alex raced through the dungeons, the part of the castle she knew best, which also was the only way she could think of getting back to Slytherin without meeting Filch. She was running down a hallway painfully close to the Slytherin entrance when she heard Filch and his new cane banging around at the end of the hall. In a panic, Alex stopped, and saw a small door that was partially open. Desperate and in a dearth for any better ideas, she opened it, crept in, and shut the door.

"Oof, budge off, you great oaf!" she heard Draco whisper. The closet was about as big as a refrigerator, only shorter. 

"Fabulous," she sighed, scooting over so she sat across from him, their legs tangled together in the middle of the space. It was pitch dark, so she couldn't see his face, something she found she was grateful for. 

"You know, if you don't like it, you can always leave," Draco said, shifting his leg so hers was pressed painfully into the wall.

"Ha. Filch is right outside to keep your voice down. And get off me, jerk."

"Don't tell me what to do," Draco whispered. They held their breath, hearing Filch's footsteps creep closer and closer to their door. When they heard Mrs. Norris scratching at their door, they froze.

"Mrs. Norris, really, you should know better. That door is always locked from the outside, and I locked it myself just over an hour ago." He tried to door, and found it locked. "See?" Mrs. Norris, however, kept on scratching, and started meowing as well. "Ah well, I suppose the little buggers have made it back already. Hopefully we'll get them next time." 

Alex and Draco didn't resume breathing until they couldn't hear his cane tapping on the doors and closets all along the hall. After what seemed like an eternity, they moved their legs, and tried the door, which was in fact locked.

"It's locked," Alex said.

"My, you have such a fabulous talent for stating the perfectly obvious," Draco replied, drolly. 

"WHY do I get the feeling that this is going to be the longest night of my life?"

"You said it."

*   *   *   *

A small burst of blue light illuminated the small space they were in, fizzled brightly, and then went out again.

"Could you stop doing that? You've tried that before, and it didn't work then either," Alex snapped, shifting to ease the pressure on her aching legs.

"First of all, I am sick of being in here with you, second of all, I am desperately hungry, and third of all, I will have to piss in about five minutes," Draco retorted. 

"Oh, have it timed down to the minute, do you?" Alex asked snidely, shifting again.

"Yes I do, and stop moving around, you keep kicking me. How long have we been in here anyway?"

"First of all, I might be _trying_ to kick you, and second of all, _Lumos_," the space lit up again with a warm light, as Alex pulled out what looked to be a rather elaborate hourglass, "it's been exactly 23 minutes and 7 seconds since you last asked me, so stop asking."

"Wherever did you get that thing?" Draco asked, heedless of her animosity.

"From my grandfather," Alex replied shortly.

"Where did he get it?"

"He made it."

"How?"

"It's enchanted. The sand is from Cuba, where my father is from, from the grave of my great-great-grandmother Inez. She was buried in a small cove, close to the ocean, near her home, where she was born, lived, and died. She was supposed to have been a great Santeria priestess in her time. People would come from all around the world to see her," Alex explained.

"So the sand's enchanted?"

"That too. It's hard to explain, because the kind of magic that's involved isn't any that we're going to learn here at Hogwarts."

"And what sort of magic would that be?" Draco asked sarcastically. 

"Santería."

            

"You mean like voodoo, with the chicken heads and all that?"

"It's not like that at all. Killing things for spells, anywhere in the world, is dark magic. My grandfather and great-grandmother knew of it, and knew how to do it, but rarely ever did it themselves," she explained. The closet was all of a sudden very quiet again.

"So…do you know any Santería?" Draco asked.

"Not as much as my grandfather did. He didn't teach me very much before he died; only a protection spell, really."    

"A protection spell? Against what?"

"Evil spirits and ghosts," Alex replied, hoping that might shut him up. It was well known that Draco was not a fan of the Bloody Baron. It did, in fact, get quiet, but soon enough Draco piped up again.

"Um….Alex?"

"Yes?"

"I wanted to apologize."

"For what?"

"What do you mean, for what?"

"Well, if you think about it, you've got a lot to apologize for. Are you apologizing for enabling the entire house to make my life hell for the past four years, or are you apologizing for pushing me down in the train when I was trying to help you, or are you apologizing for putting me in this situation?"

Draco was silent. 

"The first two. I feel that I have no responsibility for where you find yourself now."

"Why not? If you hadn't started fighting with me, Mrs. Norris wouldn't have caught us and we wouldn't have had to run away and gotten stuck in here!"

"_You_ started the fight."

"I did not!"

"Did too."

"Fine. Have the last bloody word; I don't care. And you can apologize all you want, but obviously you don't feel bad for your actions. There's no use in me forgiving you for things you don't regret doing," Alex said quietly.

"Fine."

"Fine."  

"Burn in hell."

"You first."

*  *  *  *

Argus Filch was always up with the sun. Walking the halls of Hogwarts castle while the students were still asleep was one of the small pleasures he got out of life, given that their loud, boisterous energy disturbed what he felt was the true spirit of Hogwarts. Having already checked all of the dungeons for rats, lizards, and even for Peeves, he was now preparing to scan the hallways near Slytherin house. He had a special order for everything, and in terms of monitoring the upkeep of the castle, he moved from the bottom to the top, saving the towers for last, since all the stairs aggravated his bad knee.

Only at the last minute did he remember to unlock the broom closet across from the Slytherin house entrance; though Quidditch practices wouldn't start for another month, both the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams liked to start early. Trying the door, he was able to unlock it easily, which was rather odd given that it usually put up a fight to let itself be opened. Even then, he did not suspect anything was amiss until he looked down at the floor of the closet.  Such was his shock that he was rendered utterly speechless and merely stared at the two bodies that lay entwined in a heap at the bottom of the closet, slumbering peacefully as if nothing in the world could ever disturb them. 

"Is that Draco?" a voice inquired behind him. Pansy Parkinson, looking like she'd sucked on a very tart lemon, was gawking at the sight of the two people sleeping at the bottom of the closet. Filch realized that he must have been staring for quite a while, since students were now pouring out of Slytherin, heading towards Great Hall for breakfast.

"Draco? What are you _doing_?" Pansy demanded in an increasingly shrill voice. Draco did not hear her, but Alex certainly did. She awoke immediately, and stood up almost instantly. Draco's head smacked the floor, since Alex had removed her arm, which had served as his pillow for most of the night, from under his head.  

"**DRACO**?? Would you mind explaining this?" Pansy shrieked, pulling Alex by her hair and pointing to the scar on her neck. Draco rubbed his head, and merely stared at Filch and the hysterical girl.

"Oh, bugger."

"Bugger is right, Mr. Malfoy. Get up," Filch snapped.

"Draco! How dare you?!  Cheating on _me_ with this…this…Mudblood? Have you _no_ shame?" Pansy shrieked, still pulling at Alex's hair. Alex, who did not like to be led around by her hair especially so early in the morning, pinched Pansy, who shrieked even louder, finally letting her hair go. By this time, a very large crowd had gathered to watch the drama. 

"How can I cheat on you when we've _neve_r been together?" Draco snapped, stretching his legs and fixing his robes. 

"So you are you admitting to being with this…this…this - ?" Pansy asked, her voice breaking and dangerously close to tears. Alex was getting very close to giving her something to cry about, but as there were witnesses, she thought the better of it. 

Draco simply looked at her, giving her the scathing look he seemed to have reserved for only the lowest forms of life. Even Alex hadn't ever been privy to being on the receiving end of one of those. 

Pansy screeched, rushing back in the direction of the Slytherin common room.

"So, am I in trouble, or what?" Draco asked, turning to Filch. Filch himself looked very surprised, and nodded absently. 

"Come with me, you two," he mumbled, pulling them by their ears towards the faculty corridor. 

* * * * 

Harry Potter was one of the last students to enter the Great Hall. He had very little on his mind, other than how he could possibly convince himself to skip class and go back to sleep. But loud shouts of mirth from the Gryffindor table jarred his thoughts and made him focus on the present. It was an odd sight indeed for the morning of the second day of term; virtually all of the Gryffindors were gathered together around their table and appeared to be greatly amusing themselves.  

I wonder what Fred and George have done this time, Harry thought, cautiously approaching the table, sitting down next to Ron.  

 "Well, Harry and Hermione," Fred remarked when Harry had sat down, "it seems that you two aren't the only ones feeling your oats."

The entire table laughed, save for a brooding Ron. Utterly confused, Harry decided to play Fred's game, despite the twinge of annoyance he felt. "What do you mean?"

"Well", the twin replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Draco was caught with a girl this morning…_outside_ his common room…in a closet...and get this, both of them had hickeys!"  

Hermione, not one for balance problems, fell right out of her chair when she heard this. But Harry was the only one who noticed, since everyone was too busy laughing. 

George picked up right where Fred had left off. "Yes, and apparently the entire Slytherin House is in an uproar, now that their superstar was with a muggle-born". More laughter ensued, and Harry couldn't help but glance at Hermione, whose facial expression betrayed her composed posture. For a moment, she held Harry's gaze, and quickly looked away. As the general conversation turned to more every day affairs, Harry turned to his best friends, making a mental note to speak to Hermione individually.

"So...you think it's true? About Draco, I mean." asked Harry, paying particular attention to Hermione, who seemed preoccupied with her losing battle against schizophrenia at the moment.

Ron, who had been watching Harry and Hermione a tad too closely as of late, snorted. 

"Draco _would_ be getting shags before I do... life can be so cruel sometimes..." he said bitterly to Harry.

"Honestly, I personally do not know, and frankly, I don't see why it should concern you both", scolded Hermione, who now appeared more unsettled than Harry thought possible, and began to put her books away. 

Harry smiled in Hermione's direction; no matter what she might be going through, good old Hermione would always be there to scold them for improper behavior. 

She, however, promptly lost her mind, because she suddenly stood up and declared, "I have to run to the library and do some last minute research. I'll meet up with you two in Potions."

Harry could only stare bewildered at her retreating form; he had not expected Hermione to rush off so soon, acting as if she purposely wanted to avoid them both. Very odd behavior indeed, Harry thought.  

"What did you say to her?" Harry asked Ron, biting into a piece of toast.

 

 He did not answer right away, but after much shifting in his seat, he finally turned to Harry. 

"Harry, what exactly is going on between you and Hermione?" demanded a clearly anxious Ron.

* * * 

Alex was mortified. She knew that people now thought that she and Draco were an item, but she'd have never thought that they'd think that she was sleeping with him. She realized soon enough, however, that this assumption was naïve on her part, considering the position in which they were discovered, and also the large bruise on her neck, which everyone interpreted as a "love bite," just as Snape had called it.

Snape. Alex blushed just thinking about him. Filch had led them straight to Snape's office, apparently hoping for some sort of harsh punishment to be meted out. Filch should have known better.

"You may leave now, Filch," Snape said, giving him one of his most oily smiles.

"You'll punish them good, though, won't ye? They were caught out of their house, you know. _Overnight_," Filch added with a conspiratorial wink that made Alex angry. 

"We didn't do anything, so you can stop that winking right now!" she yelled. Snape smiled at her warmly, beckoning her to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk. 

"You may leave _now_, Filch," he repeated, opening the door. Filch left, disappointed in his efforts once again. Snape motioned to Draco to sit in the other chair, and sat down at his desk, entwining his fingers. 

"I will not ask for any explanation of your behavior-"

"We didn't _do_ anything!" Alex interrupted, bolting out of her chair. 

"Ms. Saavedra, please calm yourself," Snape said quietly. Alex sat down, cautiously. If she was going to be punished, she wanted to at least tell her side of the story. It would only be fair. Though now that she thought about it, it would probably only get her into more trouble. She snuck a glance at Draco. He seemed wholly unperturbed by the entire situation, which troubled her only more. 

"I will _have_ to give you detention," he continued, "but since both of you are not new to that sort of thing and it will not be something terribly hard, don't worry about it. What I _do_ want to talk to you about has to do with being safe. I realize that you are young, you're feeling restless…you want to try…new things…" Snape looked decidedly uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as Alex felt. She had wanted to speak up, tell him the truth, but found that she could speak at all. She stared at her hands, as if they had only recently sprouted from her wrists. 

"I hope you are taking great measures to…protect…yourselves…from any sort of inadvertent consequences…that can arise from this sort of thing-" Draco's snort turned Snape's face seven shades redder, a hue Alex had believed him entirely incapable of. 

"Either way," he proceeded to say, coughing into his fist, "if you ever need to talk about…anything…I am at your service…and…and…here!"  A small pamphlet appeared in her lap, titled, _Safe Sex and You: How to protect yourself with magic_, by Clamidia Herpson. Alex would have passed out if Draco hadn't taken her arm and pulled her out of Snape's office. 

How she showered, dressed, and arrived to the table still baffled her, but now that she was here, finally eating, she had all of her faculties, and was properly mortified. This feeling distracted her from the fact that she was now a pariah amongst not only her fellow housemates, but also amongst nearly all the girls. Judging by the whispered comments that every girl who walked by her seemed to throw her way, they all thought she was either the most common of hussies, or else morally bankrupt on account of sleeping with Draco Malfoy, of all people. But all in all, Alex shrugged. She was used to this sort of treatment. 

Draco, on the other hand, was not. While most the students did not like him, he had commanded a vague sort of respect amongst the students of Slytherin whenever he entered a room, walked down the hall, or what have you.  Now, it seemed that thanks to Pansy Parkinson's hysterics, the entire house was engaging in a widespread boycott of Draco Malfoy. The freedom it gave him scared him, but was thrilling all the same. At the moment, he and Alex sat isolated in her usual place, at the end of the table, eating quietly, without looking at each other. 

****

Potions class couldn't be more horrible. Snape was on a rampage, having reduced Neville to shreds of sniveling humility; Hermione seemed more than a bit off her rocker, and Ron was acting rather pissy as well. Harry noted all of this with a decidedly unattached air, which only served to anger his best friends even more, especially Ron. The youngest male Weasley had not believed Harry when he truthfully answered his question, asserting that nothing was in fact going on between Hermione and him. When Harry had asked him why he cared in the first place, he simply muttered, "Forget it". The conversation ended there, as they were already late for potions, which was in itself an auspicious way to begin what was to be unabashed torture to come. Ron had not spoken a word to Harry since. Harry decided against confronting Ron, and instead watched for any new developments in what looked to be the newest episode of _As the Snake Turns_. As a result, he now couldn't be bothered to notice much of anything else, other than the strange way Alex and Draco were behaving. Harry had noticed before that Alex usually took to sitting far in the back of potions, across the room from where Ron, Hermione, and he would normally sit. Today, however, she was sitting closer to the three and the rest of the Gryffindors. Draco himself was parked on the outskirts of a cluster of Slytherin tables. As they were fairly isolated from their housemates, it was apparent that the rest of the Slytherins weren't too keen on the couple's budding romance.  Worse, they continued to whisper and laugh to the chagrin of Hermione, who'd been admonished by Snape to be quiet when she tried to complain of the noise only recently. 

Hermione herself seemed to have lost her mind. Her behavior at the table today had piqued Harry's curiosity and he was determined to find out what was wrong with her. As the class neared to a close, he resolved to talk to her first thing after Potions.

***

Ahhh, our wonderful reviewers:

Child of shadows: Well, although we are not promising anything, we can assure you that this fic will not be focused on a big Ron v. Harry fight. Yes, they will have little skirmishes (as you may have noticed in this chapter), but it'll all be well in the end.  

Yuubou:  Of course Ron is jealous?  Would you expect any less of him? (Btw, we love Ron; but we are expanding on the jealous behavior he exhibited in GoF).

Cakbug: Sorry the last chapter was so short.  Hopefully we've made it up with this one!

Roxy: Calm down, girl!  And write a more decent review if you want a cameo!  Hehehe…you know we love ya, Rox.  

Alanna Dumbledore: Nous savons seulement comment les faire dans Microsoft Word.  Mais tu peux consulter ton version de "Help" dans Windows. But we're glad you're enjoying it!

Jennifer: Yes, yes, you're right.  Since we love drama, we couldn't stay away from the romance factor. But it's not really like Betty la Fea, though you could probably spot some influences...hehe…

The Rogue: Thanks for the compliment!  We hope you've liked this latest addition!


	6. Quiet before the Storm

Chapter 5

**The Other Side of the Coin**

--a fanfiction by las brujas chismosas

Disclaimer: Original story and characters have been created by J.K. Rowling and are therefore hers. We're just borrowing them like everyone else, so we better not get sued.

A/N: We're so sorry it took us so long!!! You must realize that we both had to finish the semester from hell…AND one of us had to graduate from college (oh yes, and then took a trip around Asia while I have been desperately struggling with an internship and a night class!!! Oh, and did I mention she'll be going to Germany soon too? But alas, I'm not a bitter bruja). (Ok, you know, I have to speak up! I feel that I deserved that trip to Asia, and I'm just going to Germany to visit family, so yeah. But yeah, really sorry about the fact that it took so long. K) In any case, enjoy this latest installment! - LBC

Chapter 5: Quiet Before the Storm 

The soft breeze coming off the lake rustled Hermione's ever-frizzy hair, blowing it in her eyes while she pushed it back. It was a half-assed effort to control _something_ in her life, especially since everything else seemed to be spinning rapidly out of control. After all, Ron had lately decided that it was a good idea to lose his mind and then share this fact with everyone. Even Harry was acting really strange for what she knew to be no good reason; she couldn't figure out what exactly moved him to attack her like a lunatic this afternoon demanding what was wrong with her. Of course, she had replied that nothing was the matter except beginning-of-the-term jitters and that she desperately needed to go to the library to start some research.

Which was true. Sort of.

Harry, not convinced, had instantly grabbed her arm as she turned to walk away. Forced to look at Harry directly in the eyes, Hermione had been about to confess her troubles when at that very same awkward moment that insufferable git Ron spotted them on his way out of Potions and then, true to character, made an intelligible huffing sound and stomped off, completely ignoring Harry, who had rushed off to talk to him.

_Men. Ha!_ thought Hermione. _Boys, more like._

Worse than all of that, however, was that she couldn't figure out why the stupid business with Draco and that girl kept plaguing her….

Hermione sighed, grabbing a rubber band to tie her hair back, and then hugged her legs to her chest, absentmindedly watching the serpent in the lake snatch the occasional bird from the air.

She wasn't normally one to explode in a fit of hysterics; she hated melodrama, but she had never felt this glum before, or at least, she'd never previously felt this glum and not known why. She'd been feeling a nice big tantrum coming on, as if that were the key to returning things to the way they used to be.

Everything was changing and she resented that. She hated not being in control of her surroundings, merely a bystander to the traffic of things happening, and changing.

Puberty and all that drama aside, her heightened awareness of Ron, and his shoulders, (which seemed to have broadened over the summer) and his eyes, (greener as of late) unsettled her to such a degree that she found she had to avoid him at certain periods of the day if she wanted to remain the Hermione everyone knew and loved. But the truth was that she was getting sick of that Hermione, ANYWAY. That Hermione didn't laugh, or cry; she wasn't anything remotely close to resembling a normal teenage girl, really, and certainly didn't indulge in emotions if she could help it. That Hermione was really just a smarter, more sensitive guy. At least, that's what she figured Harry and Ron thought. For some reason that seemed to elude her; everything Harry and Ron did lately just seemed to piss her off. She knew what they were thinking, but knew as well that they were too good friends to her to say it to her face. She knew that what she was suffering from wasn't PMS, but what exactly it was, she wasn't sure.

She'd been feeling restless all summer, as if there were something she wanted to do, needed to do, but she couldn't place her finger on what exactly that might be. It was already weird to have sprouted a good five inches, so that she would have stood level with Harry and Ron, if they hadn't grown some as well. Either way, the changes that her body was undergoing paled compared to the riot going on in her head.

Everything was so confusing now that she'd returned to school. Ron wouldn't talk to her at all anymore, and she had no idea why. She thought he might be mad at her, but why? Harry was acting strange in his own spacey way, though she often forgot to take into account the most recent events of the past year. But, given that her summer had been strange enough, and the fact that little had happened since Harry's latest encounter with Voldemort, sometimes it was hard to believe things (in the greater magical community, anyway) had changed at all. Either way, what with the new restrictions at school (earlier school-wide curfews, no one on the grounds without permission, no trips to Hogsmeade, and worst of all, no Quidditch) it seemed that everyone at school was suffering from a protracted case of cabin fever. And school had been in session for only three days now. It was going to be a long year, if things kept up the way they were going.

Hermione exhaled once more, and rested her chin on her knees. She'd have to go in pretty soon; Hagrid had said that she could stay by the lake, in full view of his cabin, but only until twilight. As the sun sank lower, into the woods behind the lake, Hermione became more and more agitated; she didn't really want to go back into the castle, and run into people, much less talk to them.

And this business with Draco…Hermione didn't want to think about it, and actively tried not to, but she found that she couldn't help herself, most of the time. She knew that she'd been thinking of him more often lately than she ever had, but then he'd never figured so prominently in her life like he did now. She smiled shyly, recalling her trip to Bulgaria this past summer.

Initially, she had been surprised - hell, shocked and outraged to discover that Draco was staying only a few towns over, with relatives. At the time, it seemed like nothing could get any worse in her life, but that soon changed, and she'd in fact learned a great deal, about herself, and about others, that summer. All that, however, seemed to have gone down the drain now that everyone was back at Hogwarts. After all, considering everything that had happened this summer, she couldn't help but feel betrayed by his recent "tryst" with that Slytherin girl.

Just thinking about her made Hermione mad. They'd shared the same Potions class for four years now, and Hermione could tell that the Slytherin tried to make herself inconspicuous. This confused Hermione, because Alex was, empirically, rather pretty, and she was certainly very smart. They might have even been friends if she were in a different house, and obviously if she hadn't slept with Draco. Of course, Snape's biting remarks did not help any; all the fifth-year Potions students seemed to hear about lately was "why is it that Miss Saavedra can seem to do this when no one else can," and "why don't you pay attention, Ms. Granger, you might learn something from Miss Saavedra." Being singled out didn't appeal to either girl, and Hermione certainly did not appreciate being told that her intelligence paled in the light of another.

And certainly not someone who was caught shagging Draco Malfoy in a closet.

Frustrated, she gave her hair one final yank. It was too much to bear.

As the sun dipped behind the trees, Hermione dejectedly rose to her feet. In the distance she saw Hagrid coming out of his cabin, Fang yapping at his heels. It only took the half-giant two seconds or so to cover the great distance between them, though this might have been because he was ten feet tall, and had legs that moonlighted as tree trunks.

"And what is botherin' yeh, that yeh need to sit by the lake alone, fightin' with your hair?" he said as he threw a huge arm around her shoulders. Hermione looked up at him, and smiled. At least Hagrid wouldn't change too drastically on her, if at all.

"Oh, just the usual," she replied with a smile.

"WHY, what did Ron do now?"

"Ha, nothing, and that's what's so annoying…He won't even talk to me!"

"He'll start soon enough, trust me." Hagrid gazed at the retreating sunlight. "Alrigh', off with yeh, get back into yer common room, as they'll be doin' the countin' soon. It's getting late and I don't want Dumbledore angry at me".

Hermione obeyed, thanking him for valuing her privacy. With one last wistful look at the lake, she slowly retreated back to the Castle.

***

If it seemed like nothing was going right lately, then obviously, it was due to the fact that Harry's best friends had been abducted by aliens, and replaced with creepy, hyper-emotional clones. Ron didn't know what aliens or clones were, but Hermione didn't appreciate the metaphor at all. But that didn't matter, since the two were fighting, again, to the point of avoiding each other, a situation that created a problem for Harry, who didn't appreciate being stuck in the middle of a battle, again. And to top it all off, Ron had actually gotten it into his head that somehow Harry and Hermione were together.

Harry had to admit that the current circumstances did not help any; in fact, they were probably just the thing that had given birth to his best friend's theory. But neither he nor Hermione had asked for the "privilege" of being on the special task force Dumbledore had set up as of late; for Harry, in fact, it was simply necessary that he be able to protect himself as well as he possibly could, against Voldemort or anyone else who could and would try to hurt him.

Harry groaned. He didn't usually feel sorry for himself, but lately it felt like things were even more out of control than usual. As a rule, he never preferred being stuck with the Dursleys over being at Hogwarts, but what with another generation of students entering Hogwarts - yet another 200 kids who'd grown up hearing the name Harry Potter spoken with complete and total reverence - Harry wanted to go somewhere where he wasn't someone, somewhere where it wasn't so obvious that he was a target. The pressure of being The Boy Who Lived combined with a far more real threat of death hanging over him was getting to be too much to bear, and both Ron and Hermione were so wrapped up in their respective problems (whatever they might be) that they didn't really have the emotional stamina to deal with Harry's problems.

Harry quickly sat up from his chair where he had spent the after-dinner hours attempting to tackle the Potions formula Snape had assigned. He scanned the common room for any sign of Ron or Hermione, but neither had returned. Ron had gone off somewhere with his brothers and Lee and Hermione was once again on one of her research crusades in the library. Without either one, he had to admit that he did feel a bit out of place in the common room at present, where groups of students were gathered talking animatedly to each other. Glancing down at his blank scroll, Harry decided to make a quick run to the library to find Hermione. After all, he needed to talk to someone and he also had a feeling that she would have confessed something earlier today if it hadn't been for Ron.

Hermione'll understand me, he thought, gathering up his books. He had to acknowledge that Ron was never a swell hand at dealing with things that weren't fun and games: especially after the Triwizard Tournament last year, Harry knew that Ron regularly got jealous of all the attention Harry received.

_Knowing Ron_, Harry thought, _he'd chalk up anything I say as a hero's useless worries_.

With that, he left the Gryffindor common room without a backward glance.

***

Alex had been sitting in the library for what seemed like a millennia. She was tired but satisfied. She was also happy, as no one had bothered her while she had been there. Of course, the library had been nearly empty during the afternoon, given that it was only the first day of term.

Sleepily, she looked around the room. She could see a handful of Ravenclaws sprinkled among the shelves, avidly reading books to get ahead in their classes, as always.

She smiled. Some things never change, she thought, absentmindedly picking up a book in front of her. She was so involved in her thoughts that she didn't notice anyone else walk in.

"Um…excuse me", said a voice behind her, easily startling her.

"What is it?, she asked, annoyed that someone had interrupted her silent reverie.

She slowly turned around. Harry Potter! _Why is he talking to me?_ She thought.

"Have you seen Hermione anywhere? She said she was heading here right after dinner?"

Harry searched the Slytherin's face. He hadn't known anyone else in the library.

"Well, sorry to inform you, but she hasn't stepped foot in this library since I've been here. And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have missed her if she came in; it's been so empty that Madame Pince has spent most of the afternoon forlornly staring at the door."

"Poor Pince," Harry replied, smiling. "Thanks, anyway."

"No problem". Alex picked up the copy she had placed on the table and resumed reading.

"Um…Alexandra?"

Harry's voice startled her once again, especially since he had addressed her so formally. Looking up, Alex realized he had not moved an inch.

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could help me with this potions equation? That is, if you don't mind, of course. Hermione usually helps me with these but since she's not here and there is no one else around…."

"Oh, so that's why the high and mighty Harry Potter decided to speak to _me_, then? Couldn't possibly figure things out on your own like the rest of us, can't you?"

She cut him off before he could continue. She hadn't meant to sound so bitter, but she had to admit that she was a little bit hurt. His request had reminded her of how every single person who had ever spoken to her before during her Hogwarts career always had an ulterior motive.

Madam Pince glared at them from her desk, a warning that they were getting too loud for the three other people in the library to concentrate.

"No need to get snippy, thank you," Harry hissed. "Jeez, I was just asking for help, not a kidney. And you can quit with that "high and mighty Harry Potter" crap right now, because it's getting quite old."

Alex bit her lip. Harry was looking at her fiercely, as if he wanted a fight. She sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just sick of being used by people, ok? I DO have feelings you know. Or, you don't know, because you don't know me. But I do. And I'm sick of people assuming things," Alex replied. Harry simply looked at her.

"So am I," he said.

"Well, let's try this again. Yes, I will help you with your Potions homework…but on one condition: if you help me with my Muggle Studies paper. I mean, I know you live with your muggle relatives, and might have some insights. Because we all know that my housemates aren't what one would exactly call experts on the subject…and my family isn't necessarily the norm, you see."

Harry smiled wryly at her. "Oh, and mine is. Either way, it's a deal. So, what's the topic, anyway?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"Well", she began, "I'm researching Road Dahl's perception of magic. It is actually quite interesting, considering so many Muggle children have read his books. And that so many of his books have been made into movies."

"Yeah…I remember watching "The Witches" on TV once, scared the crap out of me…though the BFG had it right, don't you think? I mean, not necessarily with the BFG himself, but real giants are rather vicious. I always liked the part where he described how people tasted, like how people from Panama tasted like hats-"

"Yeah, and people from Wales tasted like boots…what were some others?" Alex said, sitting back on her seat.

Harry shrugged. "I don't remember…but I bet people from India would taste like curry."

"Yeah, and people from China would taste like tea. And people from France would taste like…"

"Wine! Or cheese. Or maybe people from Denmark would taste like cheese. Don't they make cheese in Denmark? A shrug from Alex, "Either way, people from Germany would taste like sausages. And people from Russia would taste like vodka…and people from Italy would taste like olives."

"No, tomatoes. And people from Turkey would taste like turkey…" Alex broke off, laughing. Harry by this time was almost on the floor, rolling with laughter, drawing a razor-sharp look and a _harrumph_ from Madam Pince. They quieted down, returning to their seats.

"And people from America would taste like…yikes, what would people from America taste like?"

"Girl-scout stew," Alex answered. In response to Harry's quizzical glance, she smiled.

"In America, we have this group, called the Girl Scouts. It's where girls get together and camp, and do crafts, and such. Except when I was younger, and where I lived, we didn't so much camp as have sleep-overs at someone's house, and all the girls would play with each others' hair and sigh about NKOTB, and all."

"Sounds like Lavender and Parvati's kind of party", Harry muttered.

Alex laughed at Harry's eye-rolling. "Right…either way, girl-scout soup is where you take a bunch of different soups, and put them all together, and cook it, and eat it."

Harry looked horrified.

"It's not that bad. It's not like you're mixing gazpacho and borsht," Alex laughed. "Anyway, yeah…" she said, sitting back once again. An uncomfortable silence settled down over the library table, as though there were something each wanted to say, but couldn't.

"You know, I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday at the meeting. I thought all Slytherins were out to get me, and thus, sucked," Harry said, breaking the silence. Alex looked up, surprised.

"All Slytherins do suck. I'm still not sure why I was put in that house. Probably because I mouthed off to the hat, but still…I don't fit in there at all. Especially since I'm not pure-blooded," she replied, matter-of-factly.

Behind her blasé veneer, however, Harry saw a great deal of pain, probably stemming from the troubles she'd had in her house. Harry couldn't imagine living in a house where everyone hated him. Well, he thought, at Hogwarts anyway. Having Hogwarts be such a trial along with the Dursley's surely would have been his undoing. I guess I got pretty lucky, he thought.

"You know, I was almost put in Slytherin…" he said. He realized that he hadn't told anyone his age about that until now, something that shocked him.

Alex looked at him with shock, which was soon followed by sadness.

"I wish you had. At least then, I would have had someone to talk to," she said bitterly.

Harry looked away, feeling guilty for some reason.

"But your home life is ok?" he asked.

"Oh, gosh, the only thing that sustains me through the school year is the thought of going home," she said, wringing her hands. "My sister and brother would have probably come here too, but my mother divorced my father, and so now they live in the States, and go to school there," she added.

"…see, for me it's the exact opposite. This is the place that sustains me while I live with my aunt, uncle, and fat ugly cousin," he said bitterly. "They hate me, and the fact that my parents were magical, and until I turned eleven, tried to keep that, as well as the fact that I was a wizard, from me."

"Jeez. I honestly don't see how anyone could hate you. Not kissing your butt here, but you're not a psychopath, or even arrogant or pissy, even after all the hoopla…" Alex stopped, and shrugged.

"Well, they don't like magic, and are afraid of it, I guess. So they took that fear out on me, especially after I started coming to Hogwarts. The one thing I've found hard to reconcile is the notion that no one is all bad, or all good. I'm certainly not, though everyone wants to think that. The Dursleys, however, I can't think of even one redeeming quality about them. They seem to be an complete waste of flesh."

"Well, the fact that you even tried to see the good in them shows your superior character…you can always look at it like that," Alex replied. "I don't think I could be nearly that magnanimous."

"Well, Petunia's my mother's sister. Who likes to write off family?"

"Petunia? Yikes." Alex said, grimacing.

"Yeah, I know. And she's exactly the way her name makes her sound. Stuck up, prissy…"

"Jeez. How are you normal?"

"…I don't know... Am I normal?" Harry said, grinning. Alex started laughing. More glares from Madame Pince, as learning should not be fun, and ensuing laughter.

"No, I guess not…but then, no one who comes here is…just look at Dumbledore. He has to be the craziest man I know," she said, though certainly not in a derogatory manner.

"Yeah, but you know, the line between genius and crazy is a very thin one," Harry said quietly.

"Sure. One he seems to negotiate quite well. Not like other nutters we know…" Alex glanced at Harry to see his reaction, but he was staring at her quizzically.

"You know, I was wondering, why didn't you cringe at Voldemort's name? At the meeting, I mean. I thought I was the only one."

Alex shrugged. "I don't know. My grandmother says that giving something a name makes it human, makes it real. Makes it weaker than if you leave it without definition. Plus, the whole not-growing-up-in-the-magical-community-thing really helped. I forget sometimes that I do it…even the kids in Slytherin don't say his name…they're just as scared of him as everyone else, but most of the time, only maintain their veneer of evil for their parents. That's how Draco is, at least, how he is now, anyway."

"Draco? Oh yeah, that's right… you got kinda close with him last night, didn't you," Harry said in a faintly accusing tone.

"Hey, don't get all accusing all of a sudden. I know you don't like him, and I even know what happened last year in the train, but if anyone has a reason to hate him, I do. He has humiliated me beyond belief and now everyone thinks I'm a big tramp. And anyway, I didn't have sex with him, not that I have anything to prove to you, so you can stop being mean about it." Alex stood up, and started gathering her books. Harry simply watched her, then caught himself.

"Look, I'm sorry. But Draco is constantly the bane of my existence, and is the most arrogant wretch I know, not to mention a few other things I wouldn't bring up in polite society…"

"Don't you think I know? I live with him. But I'm telling you, something's changed. And Dumbledore wouldn't have put him on that task-force-thingy if he thought that he couldn't be trusted," she said, sitting back down.

"Jeez, You sound like Hermione."

"Then don't you think that she might be right?" she said, softly.

"Please, she's lost her mind…"

"And I…what? Spent a night with Draco, so I'm biased?"

"I didn't say that."

"You were thinking it."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"Was not!" he cried.

"Were too!" she yelled back. Madame Pince yelled something unintelligible at them, and they quieted down.

"Oh yeah, what am I thinking now?" Harry whispered, glaring at her.

Alex closed her eyes, and let the books fall from her arms, startling Harry.

"You were thinking that I think I know everything, just like Hermione does," she said, quietly. Harry fell out of his seat.

"You can read minds?" Harry asked, climbing back into his chair.

"Only when I really concentrate. My grandmother can do it without trying, but I'm not that good yet."

"You think that's why Dumbledore wants you on the team? I've never heard of someone really mind-reading before. Other than on the telly, but then, that's not real."

"Probably. But I'm also really good with potions…Anyway, there aren't very many mind-readers in England. It's largely an organic form of magic, if it's magic at all. The only people I've ever heard of being able to do it are the indigenous people left in the Americas, and a few of the tribes in Africa and the South Pacific. There's always the magic practiced by Zen monks in Korea, China, and Japan, as well as the monks of Tibet, but that's different, and is more about sensing emotions rather than actual feelings…what?"

"What are you?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I mean, where do you get all this stuff?"

"I read about it. Or my grandmother told me about it. She's taught me everything I know. I learned some stuff from my grandfather, but that was darker stuff, and he was smart, he didn't teach me anything really dangerous."

"What do you mean, darker stuff?"

"Well, he was a Santeria priest-"

"What's Santeria?"

"Well, most people call it voodoo, but it's not all cutting heads off of chickens and drinking their blood or anything like that. Only the darkest magic calls for living blood, and that's the case with any sort of magic…either way, it's kind of an amalgamation of traditional magic, and the more organic, tribal stuff from Africa. My grandpa was basically a wizard, though both he and my grandmother aren't accredited or anything."

"But I though America had schools for magic, for as long as there were people there."

"Yeah, but they were only for white people. Things in America have always been different, and what with slavery, people were socialized to consider anyone colored simply less smart, less pretty, less everything. Desegregation in magical schools happened the same time desegregation in the normal schools happened, since the President of the United States has jurisdiction over their Ministry of Magic as well."

"You mean that your President is a wizard?"

"No, no way is Bill Clinton a wizard. But Teddy Roosevelt was. And so was FDR, but they were cousins, so that helps. And I heard that FDR was notoriously lax in his education, so he wasn't that hot with a wand, if you know what I mean."

"Wow. So your grandma and grandpa weren't allowed to study magic then?"

"Well, they learned from their grandparents and parents. But no, they weren't allowed any official schooling."

"Wow." Harry sat back in his chair, digesting all this. Alex turned away, staring at the books in front of her. Her family's history was something she'd never shared with anyone; in fact, she'd never had a conversation this long with anyone before, other than Draco, but that was only under duress.

She turned and smiled at Harry.

"Ready to work on your Potions?" she asked. Harry grimaced.

"About as ready as I'll ever be."

***

Hermione had decided by the time she got to the common room that she would confront Ron about his problem. She was already sick of his huffy silences and stomping around indignantly, but the added tension his tantrum had brought between the three of them was getting too much to bear. There was already enough drama in the school without Ron adding to it.

She spotted Ron in the common room, horsing around with his brothers.

"RON!" she cried, standing at the entrance. Everything, and everyone, in the room froze. "Come here. Now," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

Ron got up from where he'd been pinned by Fred and George, and walked over to her, trying to look mad. "Get that look off your face now, and come with me," she said, and walked out the room.

"Ooh, Ronnie-kins is in twubble wid his widdle girlfweind…" Fred or George trilled, laughing as he left.

"Shut it, Weasley!" they heard Hermione yell from the other side of the portrait hole. "And that means you, Fred!" Fred and George stared in astonishment; no one had ever been able to tell them apart before, especially not by their voice.

Once in the library, Hermione turned back around, and faced Ron.

"What is your problem?"

"What do you mean, what's my problem?" Ron asked back, crossing his arms as well.

Hermione threw her arms in the air, frustrated.

"You've been moping around like a complete diva since we got back to Hogwarts, and I want to know why," she replied.

"What do you care?"

"First of all, why are you answering my questions with questions? What are you trying to hide? And second of all, what the hell do you mean, why do I care? I'm your friend, aren't I? If you're unhappy, I'm unhappy, and I'm sick of being unhappy, so 'fess up!"

Ron sighed, and stared at the ground, and then looked back up at her.

"Hermione, I-"

"What the hell is that?" Hermione hissed, pointing at Harry and Alex giggling and laughing at a table not far away. Ron took a deep breath, and plunged on.

"Hermione! I like you!"

Of all the things Ron could have said, this had to be the only thing that would have grabbed Hermione's attention away from Harry and that Slytherin girl. She turned and stared at Ron, who grabbed her shoulders and kissed her full on the lips.

~~

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